You'll Get Yours
by OzzyJ
Summary: A case from Captain Raydor's past - threatens to destroy her present. Sharon/Andy UST
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or settings below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Pairing:** Sharon/Andy

**Rating: **T (for now)

**Summary:** A case from Captain Raydor's past - threatens to destroy her present.

Currently in canon, until season 2 inevitably pushes it into AU territory.

**Author Notes: **Okay folks; here is my first story set in Major Crimes land!

Now, don't y'all be mad; I haven't watched all of The Closer (just the last few seasons…well, the episodes with MM in anyway ;)) so if I have screwed something up time-line or character wise, please PM me and let me know so I can change it!

Oh and I posted on LJ months ago requesting for a beta for this story and I had volunteers…but I can't remember who they were *Doh!*. So…. if my poor grammar grates on you, or you have a little spare time and a lot of MC knowledge…please can you be my beta for this story? *smiles sweetly*

**You'll Get Yours - Chapter 1**

"Rusty?" Sharon called down the hallway in the direction of the boy's bedroom, as she fastened the clasp on a silver hooped earing. "Would you come out here a minute?"

"What is it?" Rusty yelled back in typical teenage fashion.

"If you come here you'll find out," she retorted, resting her hand on the back of the burnt-orange coloured armchair- so she could slip her stocking clad feet into a pair of manolo blahniks.

"Fine," she heard him huff as his bedroom door flew open. He careened down the hall, tucking his pale blue school shirt into his pants as he walked, "but just so you know - I was gonna put that plate in the dish washer once I…"

He stopped short when he caught a glimpse of a decoratively wrapped box sitting in the centre of the coffee table.

"W…what is that?" Rusty pointed to the ambiguous item, a frown creasing his brow.

"What does it look like? " Sharon said sarcastically through a smirk, buttoning the front of her blazer - before crossing her arms at her chest.

"It looks like a gift."

She looked over her shoulder at the package, "you know what? It does look like a gift." She brought her gaze back to meet his - smiling broadly. "Happy Birthday, Rusty."

"For me?" The young man's eyebrows retreated under his floppy blonde hair, as he gestured towards his chest with a thumb.

"It is your birthday today, isn't it?"

"Well yeah, but I never talked about it…I,"

"You think I'd forget a thing like that?"

"Well my mom…" Rusty shrugged dismissively and looked to the floor. "…never mind."

Sharon offered him a tight, knowing smile and swiftly moved the conversation on; "so, are you going to open it?"

He brought his gaze back up to meet hers; grinning boyishly. "Can I?"

"Go ahead." She stepped aside and Rusty rushed to the table, making short work of the stripy wrapping paper – his eyes wide with excitement.

Sharon grabbed her blue trench-coat from a hook by the door as she watched him; it warmed her to see him so genuinely happy. Since his emancipation from Daniel Dunn, Rusty was going from strength to strength. He was now truly putting his past behind him; agreeing to meet with a councillor and recently he had even been talking about colleges.

He deserved a treat.

"No way!" Rusty exclaimed; looking back at Sharon - beaming.

"Is it the right one? Julio informs me that it's the best for online gaming and I…oh…" Sharon was taken aback when the young man leapt to his feet and threw his arms around her waist; gripping her in a fierce hug – as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world.

Yet it wasn't; familial affection was still very new to their relationship.

But Sharon relaxed quickly - returning the gesture and giving him a tight squeeze; assuring Rusty that his reaction to her gift was completely acceptable.

When he pulled back, shoving his hands in his pockets - he looked at his shoes; clearly embarrassed by his outburst. "Thanks, Sharon," he muttered. "You're the best…"

"Good to know," she said good humouredly, before taking hold of his shoulders and spinning him around to face his bedroom. "Now go - get ready for school."

"But it's my birthday," he protested weakly, moving forward at a snail's pace.

"Go on," she shooed him out of the sitting room, "and we've still got time to iron that shirt you are wearing."

He stopped walking and looked down at the crumpled garment, before turning back to face her "but I'm wearing a jacket."

Sharon raised her eyebrows and eyed him over the top of her glasses, "All day?"

"Fine," he said with an exaggerated eye roll and skulked off to his room to get ready – but not before poking his head back out of the door and adding - "thanks, Sharon."

She smiled warmly at him, "you're welcome, Rusty."

xXx

Twenty minutes later (which was five minutes longer than Sharon was happy with), they were ready to leave. Rusty lead the way as Sharon grabbed her keys from the phone table and followed closely behind; but when the boy stopped dead in his tracks and bent to collect something from the doormat - Sharon almost ran right into the back of him.

"Rusty, what are you doing?" She asked exasperatedly, "we're going to be…" her sentence trailed off when she noticed the large red envelope he clasped in his hand. "What's that?"

Rusty turned the envelope over in his hand, inspecting what appeared to be a greeting card – but it wasn't for him. "And I thought it was my birthday." He handed it to Sharon, "here, it's addressed you."

"To me?" She frowned as she accepted the proffered envelope, running a detective's eye over the mysterious delivery for some kind of clue as to who it might be from; there was no postage paid – it had to have been hand delivered.

"Don't tell me you like, got me the most awesome gift in the world and I've gone and missed _your_ birthday?" Rusty asked; concern evident in his tone.

"What?" She met his eyes briefly before returning her attention to the envelope. "No…it's not my birthday for another month…"

It appeared to Rusty in that moment, that Sharon had paled somewhat. "So…are you going to open it?" He asked the obvious question.

"Yes," Sharon said decisively as she snapped her gaze up to meet his and passed him the car keys. "You go ahead and meet me in the parking garage."

"Okay…" Rusty drew the word out as he took the keys; signifying his bewilderment. They were already running late for school – this would make them even later; she was exhibiting very un-Sharon like behaviour.

"Go, Rusty," Sharon said more sternly this time – using her best 'mother tone'. "I'll be down in just a minute."

"Fine." He conceded and turned on his heel; as he wandered down the corridor Sharon closed the door softly behind him.

xXx

As he pressed the button and waited for the elevator to arrive, Rusty found himself wondering if in fact - Sharon had herself a secret admirer.

'_The envelope was red; Valentines cards come in red envelopes don't they?'_

Even though Valentines Day wasn't for another few months, a sinking feeling began to form in the pit of the young man's gut; the thought of a man coming into their lives resurfaced anxieties from his past.

'_If Sharon had a man in her life, would she still want me around? My mom didn't…'_

xXx

Sharon was rooted to the spot by the front door. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, as shaky hands began to open the glued-down flap on the red envelope.

'_It can't be from him…' _she told herself in an effort to calm her nerves – but when she removed the card from its paper confines her worst fears were confirmed.

'_Not again…It can't be…he's behind bars…' _

In slow motion she watched the card fall to the floor. She reached out to grab the edge of the nearby phone table for support; her stomach flipped and her head swam as Sharon experienced the onset of her first panic attack in almost fifteen years.

'_The card was hand delivered…'_

She slowly sank to her knees and closed her eyes tightly – breathing deeply and slowly in an effort to regain control and fight off the burgeoning wave of nausea that threatened to take hold.

Minutes passed and Sharon began to calm; the panic now subsiding, she opened her eyes and stared wide-eyed at the item on the floor before her.

Inside the greeting card, decorated with a cute picture of a kitten on the front, was a lone scrawled message; a single sentence that Sharon Raydor had read many times before…

'_You'll get yours, Bitch.'_

TBC

Thanks for reading

As always, any comments are welcomed – I don't bite and I will respond ;)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or settings below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author Notes:** Thanks for the lovely reviews – they were very encouraging and big hugs to Mellow_Mel for the beta!

**You'll Get Yours - Chapter 2**

It was 15 minutes before Sharon arrived in the parking garage. She quietly opened the driver's door to her silver Hyundai Genesis and slid into the seat - without so much as a glance in Rusty's direction.

Silently, she put the car into reverse - before steering them out onto the streets of LA.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sharon could feel Rusty watching her. She wanted to speak to him, to put on a brave face – to act normal; but it had taken everything she had to simply leave her apartment.

'_When was the card delivered? Was the sender still in the building? How the hell did they get past security?'_

Rusty cleared his throat and Sharon tensed; if he asked her what was wrong, she may crack.

xXx

Rusty nibbled on his lower lip, bouncing his right leg on the ball of his foot nervously as he eyed his caregiver with suspicion.

Sharon had been working a lot recently; it was a rarity for her to be home in the morning to drive him to school. When she did, ordinarily the drive would be filled with chatter about his impending school day; she would pester him about homework and tease him about girls.

He pretended to hate it - but in truth, he treasured those mornings; they made him feel like family.

In that moment - all Rusty felt was uncomfortable.

Sharon appeared a little pale - her jaw was tense and she gripped at the steering wheel tightly with both hands.

'_What the hell was in that envelope?'_

He cleared his throat, but before he could verbalise the question - it was Sharon that broke the silence; "Rusty, I want you to come to the station right after school." She kept her eyes on the road.

"But Sharon, why?" Rusty wailed, the suspicious envelope instantly forgotten in the face of not being able to use his birthday gift immediately. "I wanted to set up my PlayStation and…"

"No buts, Rusty." She said firmly, as they pulled up at some lights. "You will come to the station, and we will go home together; understood?" This time she did look at him, glaring at the young man from behind her dark rimmed spectacles.

"Fine." Rusty huffed defeatedly - crossing his arms at his chest and looking out of the window. "Happy birthday, Rusty."

xXx

Sharon marched purposefully through the foyer of HQ; her gaze focussed on the elevators dead ahead. She clutched her purse tightly to her chest; a red envelope lay in its leather confines - the contents of which weighed heavily on her mind.

'_You'll get yours, bitch.'_

Even after all these years, those words cut straight to her heart.

In her mind's eye, Sharon replayed the night she had first heard them – how they were yelled angrily across Detective Banston's front yard.

It was an empty threat; words spoken in the heat of the moment - but even though it happened almost twenty years ago, she remembered it vividly.

The Banston case should have ended with the detective's arrest - and for several years, Sharon thought it had.

That was until she received her first envelope.

"Testing your powers of telekinesis, Captain?" Sharon started as a familiar voice dragged her into the present; she glanced over her shoulder to see Lieutenant Andy Flynn standing closely behind.

"Andy," She greeted him with flatly, but as he reached around to press the elevator button he leaned in a little closer and Sharon took a step to the side - slightly flustered by his proximity.

He didn't seem to notice; "in my experience, elevators come quicker if you actually call them."

"Sorry, I…" Sharon felt herself blushing, not something the poker-faced Captain often did. "I'm a little distracted this morning..."

"Oh," Andy rocked back on his heels and clasped his hands in front of him; watching the elevator light up numbers as it descended to ground level. "Everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, Lieutenant." The elevator reached ground level and with a 'ping' and the doors slowly opened.

Sharon was the first to board, ensuring that this time - she remembered to hit the button.

As the metal doors slid closed, she could feel Andy's eyes on her.

xXx

"We just caught a case!" Without raising his head to face his superior officer, Lieutenant Louis Provenza waved a white sheet of paper in the air – he had instantly recognised the gait of the Wicked Witch approaching; her heels clipping rhythmically on the linoleum. "Hollywood division just sent this over…"

"Can I at least have my coffee first?"

Provenza, was not expecting the reply to come from Flynn; he glanced up to see his partner in crime approaching with Raydor; "you can get it to go…" the elder detective held up his own coffee flask "mines milk and one."

"Yes, your Highness." Andy quipped, taking the proffered flask and signalling to Sharon, "You want?"

"No - thank you…" She set her purse down heavily on Sykes's empty desk and gripped the leather handle; a new case was the last thing Sharon needed right now. "Good morning, Lieutenant Provenza, Julio…is everybody else here?"

"Morning ma'am," Detective Sanchez looked up from his monitor. "Buzz and Sykes are in the break-room and Tao's on his way. Did Rusty like his gift?"

"He did," Sharon nodded and offered him a tight smile. "Thank you for your help, Julio."

As she removed her trench coat, she turned to her most experienced detective, "Lieutenant Provenza, gather the team – get Mike on conference – you can brief us before we leave."

"Aye Aye Captain," Provenza reached for the phone.

Sharon threaded her coat through the handles of her handbag and watched him make the call; the sooner this case was solved - the better.

xXx

"Our victim's name is Jessica Ardell; 19 years old – found dead early this morning at an address on La Messa."

"Nice!" Sykes eyebrows' retreated to her hairline; that was an affluent part of town. "Rich kid?"

"No Sykes," Provenza answered the younger detective in his usual disparaging tone, "…our _victim_ was an assistant to TV actress, Amber Moore."

'_Something's definitely off with the Captain_,' Andy was distracted by Sharon pacing the office as she listened to Provenza's briefing.

The pacing in itself wasn't strange; the Captain often walked the floor – it was part of her process.

What didn't sit right with Andy - was her lack of reaction to the victim.

Jessica was young.

Having spent years working Homicide, Flynn had developed a second skin when it came to dealing with _most _violent crimes; it wasn't an impervious skin, but having spent almost her entire career in Internal Affairs - Captain Raydor was a little more sensitive.

To Andy's trained eye; it was obvious that kids were her weakness.

It wasn't a huge tell – the Captain most likely didn't even realise that she had one…but she always flinched. And for the briefest of moments, it was written all over her face; '_what if that was my child_?'

He had first noticed it back when the Chief still running the unit, and Raydor was just poking around in a case.

Truthfully, this type of reaction wasn't so unusual for an officer with kids of her own; Andy wouldn't have paid much attention - if it hadn't gone completely in the face of Raydor's 'ice queen' reputation.

That contradiction intrigued him.

Now, working with her every day and listening to Rusty divulge snippets of their home life together, 'Sharon' had started to seep through the small cracks in the Captain's armour.

She may not be as tough as she made out, but she was _always_ focused at work.

Right now, as Andy watched her pacing backwards and forwards – a frown creasing her brow – he wasn't watching Captain Raydor; he was looking at Sharon, which meant that something was definitely off.

"Amber who?" The question dragged Andy from his thoughts and back into the room, where he was met with a questioning gaze from Amy Sykes.

At Andy's shrug, Amy's eyes moved quickly around the team for an answer, until assistance came from an unexpected source.

"Amber Moore," Tao offered over loud speaker. "She plays the part of Pricilla Davies on Days. Her character actually went blind from shock when she found her twin sister Sasha – whom she also played – in bed with her fiancé, Marco."

Provenza rocked back in his chair and rolled his eyes as the rest of the team stifled their smiles – everyone but Sharon, who had stopped wearing a hole in the floor and was gesturing impatiently for the briefing to continue.

"Lieutenant Tao," Provenza continued, scowling at Raydor, "thank you so much for that detailed insight into the world of the soap opera." He rested his forearms on his desk and clasped his hands in front of him, "Miss Ardell, was found face down in the hall way to the stars home; Hollywood division got a call early this morning when the actress found our victim in a pool of blood. Miss Ardell's throat had been slashed – no murder weapon was recovered at the scene – no signs of forced entry."

"This actress have an alibi?" Sanchez enquired.

"Apparently, she was at a party."

Sharon crossed her arms at her waist. "Lieutenant Tao - where are you right now?"

"On the interstate – should I head right over to the scene?"

"Yes do – the team will meet you there; Lieutenant Provenza will give you the address." Sharon grabbed her purse and trench from Sykes desk and began the retreat to her office. "Oh and Lieutenant Provenza," She called over her shoulder, "can you text me the address, also?"

At his puzzled expression she continued.

"I will be meeting you at the scene," She said stoically, "there is something I need to do before I leave."

As Sharon shut the door to her office, Andy got to his feet and approached Provenza's desk, "she seem okay to you?"

"What? Raydor? Let's see…she's uptight, she's bossy…." He frowned for affect. "Nope – she seems perfectly fine to me."

Andy wasn't so convinced; his gaze drifted to the glass walls of Raydor's office - just in time to see her snap the blinds shut.

xXx

In the comfort and privacy of her own office, Sharon removed the envelope from her purse and sat it on the desk.

She felt sick.

The letter was evidence; she was breaking the rules.

Inhaling deeply, she switched on her monitor and navigated the computer to Google; finding what she required – she picked up the handset to her phone, punching in a number.

The line rang twice before someone answered; "Ridgewater Psychiatric Hosptial, how can I direct your call?"

"Good morning, my name is Captain Sharon Raydor…"

TBC

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of Major Crimes – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author Notes:** A huge thanks to Mellow_Mel for the beta – I took your advice mate…Andy now has 'layers' LOL!

Thank you also to everyone who has reviewed, favourited or followed this story so far – it means a lot

**You'll Get Yours Chapter 3**

"Please take a seat, Miss Moore." Lieutenant Flynn led the scantily clad soap actress towards a plush, red fabric couch - littered with black scatter cushions. "Can we get you anything? A glass of water perhaps?"

"No, thank you…" Amber More pushed a shaking hand through her immaculately coiffed blonde locks as she lowered herself to perch on the designer sofa; her glittery boob-tube mini dress creeping up her toned thighs as she sat. "Maybe something stronger," she added with a weak smile.

"I'm on it," Sykes nodded and moved swiftly to the glass fronted drinks cabinet that stood centrally to a small bar.

"This must be difficult…" Andy placed his hands on his hips and began the all-too-familiar dance of putting the bereft at ease; empathising enough to earn their trust, yet surreptitiously feeding them with questions to determine whether or not they were in fact, a suspect.

"I can't believe it…" Amber shook her head; her golden waves brushing against her naked shoulders. "I just spoke with Jess last night; she was in the kitchen getting a snack and…" The actress gestured to the kitchen and then behind her to the body covered with a white sheet. "… I just came in this morning and…..and she was…" The rest of the sentence was muffled by the hand that Amber raised to her mouth – to catch the sobs that shook her slight frame.

Sykes returned with a drink and sat on the couch; draping a comforting arm around the smaller woman's trembling shoulders as she handed the glass to Flynn. The Lieutenant accepted the beverage from the detective's fingers and crouching at the feet of the weeping woman, he offered her the glass tumbler. "I understand how upsetting this is; but if there is anything that you can think of that might help our investigation…"

Amber readily took the proffered alcohol – sipping the dark liquid and grimacing as the scotch burnt her parched throat. "I…I…don't know…I…like what?"

"Did Jess have any enemies? Had she had any arguments with family members, or friends? A boyfriend perhaps?"

"No," this time Amber shook her head firmly. "No, Jess was from back east – she didn't really know anyone in LA…She hadn't worked with me for very long…Oh God! Has anyone told her mother?" The young woman burst into tears once more; twisting towards Sykes and pressing her heavily made-up face into the detectives shoulder.

A voiceless exchange occurred between the two detectives; as Flynn got to his feet and backed away from the two women, he heard Sykes pick up the line of questioning.

"It's okay Amber," She soothed, "How long had Jess worked for you, exactly?"

As the Lieutenant turned and walked towards the kitchen, he looked at his watch; they'd been at the scene for almost an hour. As he raised his gaze, Lieutenant Provenza caught his eye; they were both wondering the same thing…

'_Where the hell is Captain Raydor?'_

xXx

"Damn it!" Sharon fumed; slamming the phone onto its cradle.

It wasn't him; Ian Banston was still a patient at Ridgewater Psychiatric – and according to his doctor - still very much insane.

The revelation that her life wasn't in immediate danger should have been a comfort to Sharon – yet now, her mind was filled with a different form of unease.

'_If it isn't Ian Banston…Then who is it?'_

Something else occurred to Sharon in that moment - something that she desperately tried to push to the back of her mind…

Sharon Raydor; former head of FID, decorated Captain of the LAPD and self-acknowledged goody two shoes – had removed evidence from a crime scene.

She shifted her gaze from the phone on the desk to the adjacent chair where her handbag lay; the vessel for said evidence. She nibbled her lower lip; since her involvement with the Banston case, Sharon's rank and responsibility within the LAPD had increased – as had the need to maintain her spotless reputation.

The Banston case was messy; and what followed - was the first time and the very last time that Sharon Raydor failed to exactly follow the rules.

"Until now." She spoke aloud as she eyed the red envelope poking out of the top of her purse.

Old timers such as Provenza and Flynn would certainly remember the case – but probably not the particulars. Relatively speaking, Sharon Raydor was 'a nobody' in the LAPD back then; her involvement wouldn't have turned heads, the way it most certainly would now.

It wasn't as if she was hiding anything; information on the Banston case was right there in her file…if anyone ever bothered to read it...

Sharon sat up straighter in her chair; '_Maybe someone has read it_.'

It made perfect sense; someone within the LAPD had read her file and was trying to rattle her.

Working in internal affairs, Captain Raydor had made her fair share of enemies - though she wondered if this had more to do with her 'promotion' to the head of Major Crimes than an investigation into a rouge officer. As Taylor had so frankly informed her; 'every captain in the department would leap at the chance to replace her' - many of which, Sharon suspected, didn't think that she deserved the position in the first place.

Anyone who read her file would know just how difficult a case it had been for her; how she had spent the best part of two months in fear for her life – of her children's lives.

Determinedly, Sharon got to her feet and straightened out her suit; she knew exactly what she had to do.

"Absolutely nothing." She voiced to the empty room, as she purposefully strode around her desk and hoisted her purse onto the shoulder.

Whether they were an officer pissed at being investigated, or a petty Captain that felt they had been overlooked for promotion – a reaction from 'the ice queen' was exactly what they would want. Privately, Sharon may have been affect by the message in the card - but Captain Raydor would remain, as always - unflappable.

xXx

"Captain Raydor, " Provenza greeted his superior – his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence."

"I had an appointment, Lieutenant," Sharon lied as she approached him. "Was I wrong to assume that a Lieutenant of your calibre could handle running a crime scene without me?"

Provenza narrowed his eyes and somebody in the room sniggered – Sharon was unsure who, as she focussed squarely on her Lieutenant.

"You were not." After a few beats, Provenza was the first to look away - pulling a note pad from the inside of his jacket pocket ad flipping it open. "In fact – we're almost done."

"Excellent." Sharon stood tall and her lips curled at the corners in an almost-smile. "Can somebody please bring me up to speed?"

"Sanchez," Provenza barked.

"Ma'am," Detective Sanchez stepped forward and addressed Sharon with a nod of his head. "From what we can gather, the victim's throat was slashed from behind as she moved towards the door. She's not wearing shoes or carrying car keys or a purse – the TV was on - so it's fair to assume that she was going to answer the door."

"Thank you Detective Sanchez," Sharon crossed her arms at her chest and dropped her hip, "Luitenant Tao, is the blood spatter conducive to that chain of events?"

"Yes Captain. The blood spatter trajectory suggests that her throat was cut from left to right, probably from behind. My guess is that bruising will form across her upper chest or jaw from where she would have been grabbed and held in place."

Tao lifted the white sheet and Sharon grimaced – tilting her head to one side as she took in the sight before her. The young woman's body was face down on the marble entrance way – blood had pooled around her head and a smear led from underneath blonde matted locks and along the pale arm that was stretched out ahead of her.

"She tried to crawl away?"

"Possibly...But I think that this blood-smear here," Tao crouched next to the body and pointed with his pen to the woman's outstretched arm, "suggests that she dropped to her knees, grabbing her throat, before she collapsed forwards and stretched the same arm out to soften her fall."

Sharon nodded, absorbing the evidence as Tao performed the victim's perceived movements.

"And Amber Moore," Sharon turned her attention to Flynn, "Did she return to the house alone?"

"She did, Captain," Andy nodded, and looked down at his notepad. "Amber arrived home at a quarter after 6; the door was unlocked which was in her words 'the first sign that something was wrong'. She found Jessica in the hallway and called the police right away."

"Alright. Good work gentlemen. Where is Miss Moore now?"

"Sykes is with her through there," Flynn gestured with his arm. "She seems pretty shook up."

Provenza huffed behind them and all four detectives turned to face the wise Luitenant; "Either that, or she's a fine actress."

xXx

"Amber Moore?" Andy watched as Sharon strode over to the young woman being comforted by Detective Sykes on the expensive couch. "I'm Captain Sharon Raydor…I'm so sorry for your loss."

It appeared to the Lieutenant, that his Captain was more focussed than earlier that morning - yet she still carried a tenseness in her shoulders; a tenseness that was visible, even through her tailored suit jacket.

Something was definitely wrong.

'_Should I ask her if she's okay?_

Truthfully, Andy wasn't sure how she would react if he did. Sharon Raydor wasn't his friend; they were colleagues – he was her subordinate.

'_You would have asked Chief Johnson.'_

But Sharon Raydor wasn't Brenda Lee Johnson; she was more reserved with her emotions...more private.

Andy wasn't entirely sure when he'd started to catalogue Sharon's behavioural traits…

'_It's only natural – we spend so much time together at work.'_

He didn't know when he'd started caring so much about how she was feeling – it had just happened.

'_I don't spend as much time analysing Skyes behaviour…'_

As Sharon bent at the waist in front of the actress, resting her hands on her own knees - Andy realised there was something else that he had been doing more of recently; his gaze had zoned in on the Captains shapely behind.

'_Look away, man…'_

Of course, he had appreciated her physique in the past; Sharon Rayor's legs, for example, had been the topic of many a conversation amongst male detectives over the years. Andy always thought that the Captain's aloof personality actually fuelled those 'locker-room' type conversations.

But back then, Captain Raydor was just their nemesis; she was nothing but The Wicked Witch or 'that bitch from FID. But now…

'_Now it's different…'_

Andy found himself still staring at the Captain when he was also presented with a barely clothed, Hollywood, 20-something starlet.

'_Snap out of it!' _He mentally shook himself, _'she's your boss!' _

He closed his eyes tightly and took a cleansing breath.

'_Keep your eyes on the actress and your mind on the job.' _Thankfully_, _Amber Moore's next words allowed him to do just that.

"I've seen you before."

Sharon was taken aback and to Andy's relief, stood up straight; "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"No Ma'am," Amber shook her head, "No, I saw you on TV. You were doing some kind of press interview or something about a gang shooting?"

"Oh that," Even though the Captain had her back to him, Andy knew that she was cringing. In Taylor's absence (food poisoning, apparently) Chief Pope had pushed Sharon into speaking with the press about a case they had solved.

"That was months ago! I'm surprised you even recognise me!"

Amber shrugged, weakly; "I've got a thing for faces."

"Miss Moore," Sharon pressed on with business. "Would you be comfortable with joining us at the station - to record your version of events?"

"Of course," Amber sniffed, "Anything I can do to help." She got to her feet and looked down – as if only now realising her attire, "is it okay if I get changed first?"

"Absolutely,"

"I'll go with her," Sykes offered, and followed the young actress up the stairs.

Sharon turned on her heel and strode towards the rest of the team who had gathered by the entrance to the kitchen – Flynn followed closely behind.

"Lieutenant Provenza," Sharon rested her hands on her hips as she addressed him. "I trust you and Detective Tao can finish up here?"

"Yes Ma'am," Provenza agreed, "But keep a lid on the science, alright Mike?"

"Buzz," Sharon continued, "have you got everything you need?"

"Yes, Captain." He answered, affectionately tapping his video recorder.

"Great, let's get back to headquarters and interview Miss Moore. Lieutenant Flynn?"

Sharon spun to face him; the fruity smell of her shampoo filling his nostrils.

"Yes, Captain?" Andy choked, clearing his throat – the bizarre reaction raising a frown from Provenza.

"Miss Moore can ride with Sykes and Sanchez. Will you accompany me back to the station?"

"Yes Captain," Andy swallowed hard; his gaze flicking from Sharon's eyes, to her lips, then back to her eyes again. "Not a problem,"

'_What the hell is wrong with me today?'_

xXx

From a distance, someone watched.

They saw Captain Sharon Raydor, dressed in her perfect little skirt-suit - pretending not to care that her past was back to haunt her.

Apparently, the card wasn't enough of a reminder…

**TBC**

Phew – that was hard. Writing detectivey type stuff hurts my brain!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author Notes**: Many thanks to Mellow Mel for the beta – cheers chickadee ;).

**You'll Get Yours – Chapter 4**

An uncomfortable silence filled the vehicle; at least Andy found it uncomfortable, considering the newly borne interest he had in his boss. Ordinarily, he wasn't one to be lost for words – however at that moment in time…he genuinely couldn't think of anything smart to say.

It was as if his vocabulary had been reduced to that of an anxious teenage boy, forced to partner up in science class with the head cheerleader.

But Andy Flynn hadn't lived that life; he had dated the head cheerleader in high school - women had never made him nervous.

'_It must be her rank,'_ he concluded.

Sharon pulled up at a set of lights and the sound of the indicator clicking broke the quiet, but Andy was unsure if the noise detracted from the awkwardness or added to the tension - being that it sounded like the rhythmical ticking of a clock.

'_Man, it's hot in here.' _

Andy loosened his tie and reached for the air-con dial, but the ever astute Sharon - quick to read his tie loosening as an indication the he needed cool air, reached for the dial at the same time - their hands bumping in mid-air.

"Sorry…" Andy mumbled - snatching his treacherous hand away and bringing it back to the safe confines of his own lap.

"No problem," Sharon responded in her ever-cool tone, as she twisted the dial to the fifth notch and returned her hand to the steering wheel. "It is so hot today."

"Too damned hot." Andy agreed, as he looked out of the window at nothing in particular.

A few long moments later, the ticking of the indicator stopped - Sharon turned the corner and finally, Andy found his voice.

"So - you taking Rusty anywhere for his birthday?"

"Well," Sharon narrowed her eyes and glanced over her shoulder before overtaking the car in front. "I'm not sure he'll want to go anywhere; I bought him a Playstation."

"Ah," Andy bobbed his head in recognition.

"Something tells me I will be spending tonight watching him shoot aliens or zombies, or something else just as unpleasant."

"Boy's will be boys…Julio helped you pick it out?"

"He did," Sharon nodded, "thankfully," she spared Andy a glance, her lips quirking into a lopsided smile. "Since my kids grew up and left home – I'm a little out of touch with what's cool."

Andy chuckled, deep in his throat; "Can't relate," he shrugged and a flicked his wrist; "Provenza and I are still _totally_ down with the kids."

Sharon barked a short laugh – catching it with a hum. "Oh totally," she agreed with mock-seriousness, as she wound down the window and collected her ticket for the parking lot.

xXx

"Miss Moore," Sharon greeted the young woman with a tight smile as she arrived in the murder room. "Thank you very much for agreeing to come down here so quickly. Detective Sykes, please could you show our guest to Interview Room 1?"

"Captain," Sykes nodded and dutifully ushered the now more conservatively dressed actress down the corridor.

"Detective Sanchez, did Miss Moore offer us any more information en-route?"

"No ma'am. – she was pretty much silent the whole way…She did stop outside to sign an autograph though."

Andy scoffed, "wouldn't want to disappoint the fans."

"Okay," Sharon chipped in, "Buzz, Detective Sanchez – "she pointed towards the media room, "eyes and ears. Lieutenant Flynn – you're with me."

xXx

The detectives entered the interview room; Andy placed a glass of water in front of their guest and Sharon closed the door behind them.

"Thank you for agreeing to speak with us, Miss Moore," Sharon reiterated as she took a seat at the table, placing her note pad and pen neatly in front of her. "I can't even begin to imagine how you must be feeling right now."

"I feel a little lost," the girl shrugged and clutched at the glass of water with both hands. "I just can't believe it, you know. It's surreal."

Sharon nodded, "Tell me Amber, we're you and Jessica very close?"

"We were," Amber sniffed and released her grip on the glass to push an errant strand of thick blonde hair behind her ear. "She was like the little sister I never had, you know. I'd let her share my clothes…we'd talk about boys…"

"So, not your standard employee / employer relationship then?" Andy asked flatly.

"I guess not," Amber shook her head softly. "I felt sorry for Jess – a bit protective maybe…Being so far away from home in a big city…I know what it feels like to be alone." The actresses blue eyes clouded over with sadness and to Sharon, in that moment the young woman seemed much older than her years.

"That's a hell of a job for someone so young; PA to a Hollywood celebrity," Andy pressed on with the interview. "She can't have had much experience…"

"Oh she had none." At the confused looks from the detectives, Amber continued. "I recruited Jess through a viral internet campaign - to raise my profile as an actress, "she waved her hand in front of her. "It was all Franco's idea…"

"Franco?" Sharon asked - her pen poised to write.

"Franco DeSalve – he's my agent. He's a total genius…"

"Franco DeSalve," Sharon nodded as she scribbled down the name on her notepad, "A viral internet campaign you say?"

"Yeah," Amber shifted to lean back in the chair, appearing more relaxed than a moment ago. "We ran a series of videos on my website - - where I auditioned a group of hopefuls to be my PA. I set them challenges, and every week one was eliminated."

"Like a reality show?" Andy asked, frowning.

"Exactly like a reality show," Amber nodded, "but just on line."

"Do you have to be a member to view these videos – or can anyone vote?" Sharon asked as she continued to make notes.

"Anyone – that's kinda the point. I've already got fans from my soap opera work – I wanted to attract new ones."

The detectives shared a knowing glance before Andy continued. "Amber, the runner up to this prize - she a sore looser?"

"He." Amber corrected Lieutenant Flynn, and Sharon fought a smile at Andy's inadvertent slip into chauvinism. "The runner up was a man – James Wang."

"Sorry - he." Andy quickly corrected himself and Sharon was sure that she observed the slightest blush colour his cheeks. "James Wang – how did he react to losing?"

"Really well, actually. He was totally supportive – I think they are still friends…or a least they were…"

xXx

The door to the media room opened quietly and Provenza and Tao joined Sanches, Sykes and Buzz at the desk.

"We miss anything good?" Provenza asked, taking an empty seat next to Sykes.

"Only that Jessica Ardell was recruited through an internet reality show." Buzz informed the Lieutenants.

"Oh god," Provenza rolled his eyes. "This is going to be a long day."

"Our suspect list has just increased to include the whole of the goddamned world," Sanchez agreed with his superior - slamming his cell phone on to the desk. "Damn it!"

xXx

"Ok people," Sharon paced the space between the desks in the murder room, hands on hips as she addressed her team. Amber Moore had returned to her Hollywood home – but true to form, the Major Crimes division had been investigating the actress's story long before she had even left the building. "What have we got?"

"Well," Provenza leant back on his chair, languidly waving his pen in the air. "The internet reality show shortens our list of suspects to just about every whack-job in the United States."

"You're right - it does," Sharon turned on her heel to face the rest of the team. "But realistically, what are our best options?"

"James Wang keeps a blog, Captain," Sykes twisted her monitor to show the other detectives. "He made some gushy congrats statement when his BFF Jessica won the PA role – but there had to be some hard feelings, right? He's local too - I'm tracking him down as we speak."

"Very good, Detective Sykes. Let me know once you have him – see if he will come in for questioning. Do we have anything else?"

"Franco DeSalve," Luitenant Flynn offered, "a.k.a Howard Francis Workman. Agent to the stars; he has priors for assault."

"Against who?" Sharon frowned

"A former client; apparently he got a little handsy with her. He didn't like the rejection."

Sharon narrowed her eyes and hummed as Sanchez placed a photo of DeSalve on the murder board. "He sounds delightful; bring him in. Anything else?"

"Amber Moore." Lieutenant Tao spoke up.

Sharon whipped around to face him, "I thought her story checked out?"

"It does," he nodded, "but only just."

Sharon cocked her head to one side, "What do you mean?"

"Core temperature checks of her liver, put Jessica's time death at approximately 10pm. Amber arrived at the party at about 10:30pm. The location of the party was about 20 minutes away."

"That would mean that she killed Jessica and left to go to the part right away," Provenza said incredulously, "that's cold."

"Not necessarily. As you know, core temp checks aren't always that accurate when determining time of death. From the time of death the body loses about 1.5 degrees per hour, until the temperature of the body is the same as the environment around it. But Amber's air conditioning in that part of the house was set by a timer that switched off around midnight, and then turned back on around seven this morning."

"So the estimated time of her death, could be out somewhat?" Sharon asked the obvious question.

"We won't know for sure until Morales has conducted the post-mortem."

"Do we have anything new from the crime scene?"

"Not yet, Captain. We still haven't located a murder weapon."

"Okay, thank you Mike." She turned again to address the rest of the detectives. "Did we find anything odd in her recent history – friends, family, boyfriends?"

"We're looking into it," Provenza re-joined the conversation. "We hacked her face book account – spoke to her family…but nothing untoward came up. Jessica just seemed like a normal girl, who'd got her first big break."

"Alright." Sharon nodded firmly and sighed as she watched Sanchez add the photograph of the young actress to the murder board, just below the photograph of Jessica Ardell. Something about the photographs struck her in an instant; "they look very similar, wouldn't you say?"

"What? Jessica and Amber?" Lieutenant Provenza got to his feet and came to stand next to her in front of the board.

"Yes. Similar build, same hair colour and style…didn't Amber say that she let Jessica wear her clothes?"

"I see where you're going with his – you're thinking that maybe Jessica wasn't the intended victim here?"

"That's right, Lieutenant. Maybe our intended victim was Amber."

xXx

Several hours later, the murder room was quiet with most of the team out on errands - and Sharon had retreated to her office.

Andy sat at his desk sifting through the Hollywood division police report on 'Agent to the Stars' Franco DeSalve's assault charge, for the second time that day. Not surprisingly the creep was being a little evasive; he was currently on a flight to Vegas – where he would be promptly met at the airport by Las Vegas PD.

Regardless of whether the intended victim was the actress or her PA – considering his history, Mr DeSalve seemed like the most likely candidate.

The sound of a door opening distracted Andy from his tedium. "Hey, birthday boy!" He got to his feet with a smile, and approached Rusty. "How's it going?"

He outstretched an arm to ruffle the young man's hair, but Rusty skilfully avoided him - playfully swatting the hand away. "I'm good, thanks." He smiled shyly - Rusty was still getting used to people giving a damn; with his mom, birthdays were just another excuse to get drunk. "Erm, is Sharon around?"

"Yeah, she's in her office," he nodded towards the closed door. "Go on in."

The teenager took a tentative step towards Sharon's office, before turning back to look at Andy. "She in a better mood than this morning?"

Andy frowned as he returned to sit at his desk; he knew that something had been wrong with Sharon this morning when she arrived at work. "I know, she had a face like thunder when she arrived this morning," he played along. "What was all that about? Things okay at home?"

"Yeah, they're good but…I don't know…one minute she is fine and the next, she gets this letter or card or something and it's like she totally changed."

"Letter?"

"Yeah, or a card. It was left outside our apartment - I asked her who it was from but she wouldn't say…"

"On your doormat? Not in your mailbox?"

"Yeah, I know – weird right? Anyway, she says I've got to hang out here after school instead of going home to play on my PS3 – but it's my birthday, you know?" He whined, "I don't want to spend it here with you guys…" He held up his hand hands, "…no offence."

"None taken, kid," Andy mumbled as his gaze drifted to observe his superior through the open blinds that dressed the windows of her office.

xXx

Sharon's apartment was just as the intruder had imagined.

'_A place for everything and everything in its place.' _

Even with a teenage boy sharing her living space, the ever anal Sharon Raydor's apartment looked like a show home.

Expensive furniture, collector's artwork – it appeared that she had a fondness for the ballet.

'_Snooty bitch.'_

The only item that stuck out as not belonging in the space was a games console; still boxed it sat atop the coffee table next to a birthday card.

"How sweet," the intruder's words were laced with the bitterness of a lost childhood.

They turned sharply and moved swiftly through the apartment, careful not to disturb anything; that was until they reached their destination - Sharon's bedroom.

xXx

The team had returned from their various locations and left for home already – once again leaving Andy alone.

James Wang had turned out to be a dead end and without the post-mortem results, their best bet at the moment was the Agent - DeSalve, who was still on the plane to Vegas.

Sharon had sent a sulking Rusty to an interview room to finish his homework, whilst she finished up and Andy…Andy was just hanging around in the hopes of getting to the bottom of Sharon's mood.

The fact that she had received a hand delivered card – was what really worried him. It meant that whoever it was from, either lived in the building or were able to bypass security somehow.

Her insistence that Rusty come to the station from work and not to straight to the apartment, was also a little odd.

Of late, the teenager had been trusted to go straight home – as long as he checked in regularly; he was still a witness in a murder investigation after all.

'_Is the letter Sharon received - threatening to Rusty in some way?' _

The door to the interview room opened dragging Andy from his anxieties; Rusty emerged, looking bored and a little dishevelled. "I'm just going to get a soda – you want one?"

"No thanks, kid."

"Me neither – it just gives me something to do," he mumbled as he skulked past Andy's desk.

"I was under the impression that you had homework?" Both Andy and Rusty raised their gazes to meet Sharon's – neither of them had heard her enter the room.

"But it's my birthday, Sharon..."

"And don't we all know it?" She smiled teasingly and leant against the door frame, "Get your things, honey - I'm ready to leave."

"Yes!" Sharon didn't have to tell the boy twice; he was in and out of the interview room in a flash.

"Did you even unpack your books?" She arched her eyebrow at Rusty as he flung his rucksack over his shoulder and walked towards her.

"Of course," He nodded firmly, offering her an innocent smile.

"Hmmm," Sharon narrowed her eyes.

"How about I take you guys out for dinner?" Andy interrupted their familial banter, getting to his feet and pulling on a grey suit jacket that had been hanging over the back of his chair. At the questioning looks from both of his invitees he continued; "it's your birthday – you should celebrate… And Captain, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten anything since this morning."

As if on cue Sharon's stomach rumbled; "that's very sweet of you, Andy - but…"

"Sound's great!" Rusty piped up, a grin plastering his boyish face.

Sharon looked at the young man, wide eyed, "I thought you wanted to get home to play on your computer?"

"I do." He nodded eagerly, "so how about pizza at our place?"

"Rusty," Sharon appeared to be flustered by the suggestion; this was a sight Andy had never seen. "I don't think that Lieutenant Flynn would want to…"

"I'll tell you what, kid," Andy interrupted Sharon before she could protest, "we get Chinese takeout, and you've got yourself a deal." He turned to look at Sharon, who appeared slightly taken back by their exchange, "as long as that's alright with you, Captain?"

**TBC**

I know…another bloody cliff-hanger! Thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Spoilers:** Mainly from season 1, but there might be an odd reference to season 2 here and there…

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author Notes:** In this story, you basically have to ignore season 2. When I started writing this, Rusty hadn't received any threatening letters and Andy and Sharon didn't attend a wedding!

Cheers to Mellow Mel again for the beta read and for putting up with me e-mailing every day to ask 'are you done yet? Can I post it?'

**You'll Get Yours – Chapter 5**

Sharon drove the vehicle into her allocated space and Andy, who had been following them, proceeded to visitors parking.

She wasn't quite sure how she felt about being railroaded into having him over for dinner. Being head of FID had made Sharon somewhat of a social pariah – and even though she now felt accepted by the team at Major Crimes, she still felt the need to keep some professional distance…especially from Andy Flynn.

They had known each other for many years; even back when they were working homicide and she was happily married, they had flirted a little - though it was always harmless and never with intent. But Sharon wasn't blind; she'd seen the way that her lieutenant had been looking at her lately – something had changed. Though what bothered Sharon wasn't the fact that Andy was looking…it was that she liked it.

"Has he been to the apartment before?"

"Lieutenant Flynn?" She put the car into park and unbuckled her seatbelt, "No. No he hasn't, Rusty. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Rusty undid his own seatbelt and shrugged it off of his shoulder before continuing, "have any of your team been here before?"

"No, I erm…" Sharon mumbled as she stretched to grab her purse out from behind his seat, "I tend not to socialise with the people that I work with..."

"You tend not to socialise with anybody."

Sharon removed her keys from the ignition and stared at Rusty – her mouth agape.

"I'm sorry!" He chuckled at her reaction, "but aren't cops supposed to like, go to cop bars for beers after work and stuff?"

"And miss out on the pleasure of your company?" Sharon retorted with a smirk as she opened her door, but before she exited the vehicle something occurred to her and she turned back sharply to face him. "Rusty," she said his name slowly, narrowing her eyes.

He looked at her expectantly, bobbing his head and matching her tone; "yes, Sharon?"

"You didn't…you didn't invite Lieutenant Flynn over tonight for that reason did you?"

"What? Like a play date?" Now it was Rusty's turn to smirk.

"Rusty," she warned.

"No! I swear - I was being totally selfish," he held his hands up in mock surrender. "This way I get to play computer games AND I get to eat take-out."

"Good." She said with finality as she placed her bag strap over her shoulder and exited the vehicle.

"These are nice apartments," Andy said by way of a greeting as he approached them. "A buddy of mine used to rent one – great views."

Sharon smiled and closing the door, she walked around vehicle to meet him, "you're right, lovely views; that's what sold it to me."

"You own?"

"I do," she nodded and pressed the button to lock her car, seeing that Rusty had gotten out. "I bought it when my youngest went to college. I didn't much like rattling around in the family home by myself."

"Empty nest?"

"Something like that," she smiled thinly.

"So, can we order from that City Wok place?" Rusty asked as he joined them in a slow stroll towards the building. "They do an awesome kung-po and you always get like a ton of fortune cookies."

Andy held the door open for them both, "Whatever you want, kid. It's your birthday party."

xXx

As Andy had suspected, the foyer to Sharon's apartment building had a security desk, although the Lieutenant was beginning to understand why it wouldn't take a criminal mastermind to bypass the guard to hand deliver a letter.

"That's Ronnie." Rusty identified the sleeping security guard. "I swear he's got narcolepsy or something. Hey Ronnie!"

At Rusty's raised voice, the aging security guards head snapped up and he instantly began sorting paperwork on his desk. "Good evening young man, Mrs Raydor."

"Good evening, Ronnie." Sharon smiled politely as the elevator doors opened. "How are you today?"

"Oh, can't complain." He pushed a hand through his silver-grey hair and slumped back into his chair, "you all have a good evening now."

"Thank you," Sharon responded as they boarded the elevator and at Flynn's confused look she leant towards him and spoke softly so Ronnie couldn't hear. "He retires in a couple of weeks," she shrugged, "he could lose his pension if they find out he sleeps on the job."

"So…" a lopsided smile graced Andy's lips, "you not always such a stickler for the rules, Captain?"

Sharon simply smiled enigmatically and pressed the button for the tenth floor.

It had occurred to her earlier in the day, that if Ronnie was on shift last night – whoever delivered the card to her door could easily have slipped past him undetected. With Andy at her side however, that question would have to wait – the last thing Sharon wanted to do was alert the ever attentive Lieutenant to her plight.

'_Doors Closing_' the automated voice on the elevator alerted the passengers to its ascension and as the doors closed on the foyer, Rusty waved to the watching security guard.

"Sweet dreams, Ronnie!"

Sharon playfully swatted his shoulder and they all shared a smile.

xXx

'_Tenth Floor.'_

The elevator announced its arrival at their destination, and they all filed out into the corridor.

As Andy followed them to their home - listening to the Captain ask Rusty about his day at school, he wondered how a person as warm hearted as Sharon could ever have such a formidable reputation at work.

But then - he recalled - she'd never had it easy.

In the late 70's, the LAPD was most definitely still a 'boys club' and, as young beat cop, Sharon would have started as an outsider. Never one to conform- she had filed complaints of misogyny against her peers and climbed the ladder the hard way; with nothing at her back but knives.

Andy sighed; he hoped she at least felt like part of the team now – because she truly was.

"I'll get the menu!" Rusty called over his shoulder as he moved through the apartment flicking on lights as he went.

Sharon dropped her keys on the phone table and turned on her heel to face Andy, "Welcome to our home."

He closed the door behind him and stepped further into the apartment, his hands in his pockets. "You have a lovely home, Captain."

"Sharon." She corrected him with a sharp shake of her head and a smile. "Let's leave the formalities at the office, shall we?"

"Alright," he smiled back. "You have a lovely home, Sharon."

"Thank you, Andy." She said with a smirk, "can I get you something to drink?" She placed her bag on the couch and headed into the kitchen where Rusty was rifling through a drawer for the menu. "We've got some soda, grape juice…" she opened the refrigerator door, "or would you prefer coffee – or tea perhaps?"

"Erm…" Andy wasn't really listening; the red envelope poking out through the open zipper on her purse had distracted him.

'_She took the card with her to the office…' _

"Andy?"

"Huh?" He snapped his gaze back to meet hers, to find that she was narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously. "Oh, tea's fine – thanks."

Sharon looked to her couch, then back to Andy - wondering just what he had found that was so interesting, but before she could ask, Rusty bound into the space between them – menu in hand.

"Got it!" He wandered over to Andy as Sharon turned to fill the kettle with water and place it on the stove. "I know what I want already and Sharon _always_ has the same so..." he waved the menu under the Lieutenants nose, "choose."

"I'll have the tofu with mixed vegetables and a side of egg fried rice," at Rusty's look of disgust he continued, "I always have the same from City Wok too – I know that it's good."

"I'll take your word for it." Rusty grumbled as he grabbed the phone from the table and proceeded to dial the number.

Sharon breezed back into the sitting room past Andy and bent to collect her bag from the couch, "please, have a seat Andy; I just need to get changed out of these clothes."

Andy tried not picture Sharon changing her clothes, and struggled to articulate a response as she moved down the hall to the bedrooms.

"Thanks, erm Sharon?" he eventually called after her, following her down the hall and she stopped, turning to face him with her hand on the handle of the door to her bedroom.

"Can I use your bathroom please?"

"Of course," she swung the bedroom door open and flicked on the light switch as she nodded her head in the direction of the bathroom, "it's just down the…"

When Sharon's gaze left Andy's and shifted into her bedroom, she fell silent.

The colour drained from her face and she dropped her purse to the floor - bringing a shaking hand to cover her mouth.

"Sharon?" Andy took a step towards her as she moved tentatively into the room. "What is it? What's wrong?

"My God." He heard her say, as he came to stand behind her – taking in the chilling display before them.

Sharon's clothes were strewn across the floor and the cabinets; underwear hung from the lampshade and decorated the mirror - more personal items were displayed for view on the chest at the bottom of her bed.

Yet what was most disturbing was the message that was crudely written in black paint, across her white cotton bed sheets.

'_You'll get yours, bitch.' _

"Captain,"

Andy needn't have said anything; Sharon was already reaching for her gun. "Rusty, stay in the kitchen!"

TBC

Thanks for reading! I'd LOVE to know your thoughts so far ;O)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author Notes: Many thanks to mellow_mel for her super-speedy beta and to reviewers for keeping me motivated!

You'll Get Yours – Chapter 6

Andy swept into the living room with his gun at the ready; having not yet familiarised himself with Sharon's apartment – the perpetrator would have the advantage.

As he moved past the kitchen, he heard Sharon shout "clear" from down the hall, signifying that the rooms on that side of the apartment were intruder free.

"What's going on?" Rusty hovered nervously by the refrigerator; having just called for take-out he stood clutching the phone to his chest, with a frantic expression on his face.

"It's alright, Rusty," Andy unlocked and slid open the door to the balcony and surveyed the area, "there's been a break in."

"A break in?" Rusty asked worriedly - looking to the coffee table where his new game console still sat. "Who breaks in and leaves a brand new boxed computer on the table?"

"All clear!" Andy shouted, loud enough for Sharon to hear and holstered his gun. "Good question kid. Do me a favour – go see if anything's missing from your room."

As Rusty left the kitchen, the kettle began to whistle and Andy pulled it from the stove and onto an iron stand; his mind a whirl of activity.

Their sweep of her apartment had surfaced nothing; whoever had broken in was long gone – having only left their mark in Sharon's bedroom and en-suite bathroom.

Andy moved to the front door, pulled it open and gave it a once over; there was no sign of forced entry and the apartment was on the 10th floor. There was only one way the intruder got into the building and that was past security.

Andy headed down to the lobby, taking two stairs at a time; a sickening feeling settling in his gut. First the mysterious card and now a break in…he needed to get to the bottom of this – and fast.

xXx

Rusty, en route to his bedroom, came to a halt as he passed Sharon's bedroom. He found her standing at the foot of her bed; she glanced up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Sharon," he took a tentative step towards her and caught the reflection in the mirror of something written on her bed sheets. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Rusty." She offered him a tight, reassuring smile and walked forwards to prevent him from entering, what was now a crime scene; "your room looks untouched - but could you please do as Lieutenant Flynn asked, and make sure that nothing is missing?"

"Okay…" he stepped back out into the hall, "…erm…Sharon…do you need anything or…?"

"No," she shook her head softly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, I'm fine – you just go head and check your room."

As Rusty reluctantly headed towards his room, Sharon turned her back on him; her eyes cataloguing the damage.

Her Egyptian cotton bed sheets were ruined – but everything else appeared to be superficial; there was underwear strewn all over the room, clothes hung out of her drawers and her wardrobe had been ransacked – but she doubted that the intruder had been looking for anything in particular. From what she saw, Sharon's experience told her that when breaking in, the suspect only had two objectives in mind; to frighten and humiliate her.

At the foot of the bed, laid out on a wooden trunk were several condom packets, a bottle of lubricant, a small pink vibrator and something else that did not belong to her.

She felt dazed as she stood, her eyes mapping the room. She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there when she heard Andy entered the room behind her; she glanced over her shoulder to acknowledge his presence.

"No real surprise here; but Ronnie on the security desk didn't see a thing." He hovered next to her, taking in the items thrown haphazardly around the room. "Anything missing?"

"Not that I can see…" Sharon ran her gaze over the room once more, "but that is not mine," she pointed to the personal items that decorated the trunk, whilst avoiding looking at her lieutenant.

She heard him clear this throat, "Sharon, I can understand…"

"I'm not being prudish, Lieutenant," she spun to face him in full Captain Raydor mode; "the other items are mine but that – _thing_ with the straps is not." With that, she turned on her heal and stalked off towards the en-suite, leaving Andy standing in her bedroom alone – a blush colouring his cheeks.

xXx

Sharon stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the words 'You'll Get Yours Bitch' written in her favourite lipstick across its surface.

'_Why is this happening again?' _It didn't make sense to her; all lose ends had been tied. Ian Banston was incarcerated in a psychiatric facility and he'd had no visitors for years. _'It doesn't make sense…'_

She caught Andy's gaze in the mirror as he once again came up behind her; his expression solemn. "Who the hell would do this, Sharon?"

Sharon opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. If this was the work of a cop that she'd investigated whilst in IA - they had a serious grudge and their behaviour was certainly escalating.

Andy reached for his cell phone; "I'm calling it in."

"Wait!" Sharon spun to face him – the gravity of the situation suddenly hitting her. "Rusty…" her eyes drew wide, "if Child Services hears about this…Andy it could jeopardise my custody…"

Andy looked at her – a frown creasing his brow. It was like he was truly seeing Sharon for the first time - her Captain's mask had slipped, revealing a vulnerability that he didn't know existed; she was willing to break the rules, to keep the boy.

"Sharon," after a few beats, he took a step towards her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder "I understand where you're coming from, I really do…but can you honestly say that Rusty is safe here? That either of you are?"

She felt the heat from Andy's hand burning through the silk of her shirt as she stared into his eyes; his expression was sincere, he brushed his thumb over her shoulder affectionately.

Sharon's breath caught in her throat and she looked down sharply, leaning back against the sink – squirming under his scrutiny. In that moment, she couldn't deal with the raw emotion that she glimpsed behind her lieutenants brown eyes; she couldn't cope with the plethora of feelings that Andy's intense gaze stirred within her.

"The best thing we can do now is find the son-of-a-bitch…Sharon…"Andy dipped his head to recapture her gaze, gently tucking a finger under her chin to lift her eyes to meet his.

"Sharon?" Rusty calling her name from the hall startled them both and they separated.

"I'm coming," Sharon responded - her voice hoarse as she pushed herself off of the sink and moved past Andy to exit the en-suite. "Don't come in here – it's a crime scene."

Andy reached out and grabbed her wrist as she passed him; Sharon looked down at his hand, before raising her head, her expression betraying her uncertainty.

"Captain," Andy said more firmly this time, his approach more professional; "I'm calling it in."

Sharon paused as she swallowed, then slowly and softly she nodded - conceding to her Lieutenant; after all, he was right.

Simultaneously, Andy reached for his phone and released his hold on her wrist.

xXx

The Chinese food arrived at the same time as forensics, and Sharon's apartment was already a hive of police activity.

Rusty and his playstation had been collected by Lieutenant Tao, to spend the night with his son Kevin - and Sharon had been hiding out on the Balcony ever since the uniformed officers had arrived.

Andy paid for the food and placed it on the counter, before showing the crime scene specialist down the hall, where he heard laughter coming from Sharon's bedroom.

"Well well well, Captain Raydor." A dark haired, rotund officer was holding the strap-on dildo up by a buckle; it swung between his fat, glove encased fingers as he waggled his eye brows suggestively.

"Always knew she was a dyke!" Came the response from a younger, slimmer colleague that was standing by Sharon's wardrobe making notes.

"Hey, moron's!" Andy snapped, making them both jump to attention. "That's a decorated Captain of the LAPD you're talking about." He placed one hand on his hip and jabbed a finger from the other hand in their direction, "I hear you speak like that again and I'll have you both up on charges of insubordination; just do your God damned jobs."

He spun around quickly, barely missing the CSI and stalked down the hall.

"Assholes." Andy muttered under his breath as he moved swiftly through the living room, coming to a stop when he reached the door to the balcony.

He placed his hand on the door handle and took a cleansing breath; the last thing Sharon needed was him storming out there all hot-headed – he needed to calm down.

What actually stung Andy most of all about his altercation with the uniformed officers, was that just one year ago, he'd have joined in with their banter – not even giving it a second thought.

The surprised looks on the faces of the officers when he'd defended Captain Raydor said it all - the former head of FID was a fair target; even when she was in trouble, she was not one of their own.

And in the face of Sharon's current plight - that thought troubled Andy, greatly.

After a few beats, Andy stepped out from the air-conditioned apartment and onto the balmy balcony, where Sharon sat on a wicker chair nursing a large glass of white wine.

"Have the '_dyke_' jokes started yet?" She greeted Andy coolly, as he came to sit in the chair next to hers.

"No," Andy lied. It pained him even more that she knew what her co-workers said about her behind her back; but of course she knew - she was Captain Raydor. "They're just bagging and tagging."

Sharon sneered and took a sip of her wine; "you're a terrible liar, Andy Flynn." She tilted her head to look at him, "but I appreciate your sensitivity."

He smiled thinly at her; Sharon's eyes looked glazed behind her glasses and Andy noted that a third of the wine had gone from the bottle.

He sighed and looked out across the LA skyline. Lights twinkled rhythmically in the distance; even at night the view from up here was amazing. "Rusty said that you had a card delivered this morning."

Sharon harrumphed and took another sip of wine, settling back against the cushions on the chair and lifting her bare feet to rest on the table in front of her. "Good work, detective."

"Sharon," Andy rested his elbows on his knees and turned his head to look at her, "what the hell is going on?"

She removed her glass and dropped them on the side table, pinching the bridge of her nose "I screwed up."

"What do you mean you screwed up?" Andy frowned, not following. "How did you screw up?"

She looked at him then, her eyes bloodshot from alcohol and exhaustion; "I screwed up twenty years ago and now I'm paying for it. Again."

Andy did the math in his head, twenty years ago was about the time that Sharon joined Internal Affairs. "Twenty years ago? Sharon, I'm not following – what do you mean that you're paying for it again?"

She swung her feet off the table and moved with her wine to rest against the balcony wall, staring out into the night.

Andy was about to get up and join her, when she finally spoke. "Do you remember a Detective called James Banston?"

"Yeah," Although Andy's memories of that time were fogged by his alcohol consumption; he could clearly recollect the detective in question, "dirty cop - worked in Vice…didn't he off himself?"

"Jimmy was my friend." Sharon hung her head and Andy internally chastised himself for opening his big mouth. "We went through the academy together; our families took trips together – spent the holidays together..."

When Sharon grew silent, Andy got to his feet and stood at her side; his proximity encouraged her to continue.

"About a month after I transferred to IA, Vice were investigating a human trafficking ring. I just happened to be with Jimmy at his house, when he took a call and something …just didn't sit right with me."

"Was it something he said?"

Sharon sighed, "…it was more, how he behaved."

"Like he had something to hide?"

She nodded, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. "I asked him about the case, casually in conversation - but he clammed up on me."

"Which made you more suspicious."

"At first I thought it was just because I'd joined IA." Sharon looked fleetingly at Andy, "Jimmy had warned me against it; he told me it was a bad move and that I'd lose friends - but I didn't move into IA to win a popularity contest, you know?" She smiled sardonically and took a sip of her wine, "I never for a minute thought that he'd meant I'd lose him."

"So, what happened then?"

"He started to avoid me, making excuses to leave when we met up as families with the kids and I started to think…you know…I could understand that with me being in IA, he'd want to distance himself from me professionally but…why socially?"

Andy shrugged, "who else was to know you were friends?"

"Right." Sharon nodded her head in agreement. "So, when I got wind that there was going to be an IA investigation into Vice; Jimmy came to mind."

Andy swallowed, "So you shopped him?"

"No." Sharon turned to face Andy, shaking her head softly, her eyes welling with tears. "And that's where I screwed up."

"What happened, Sharon?" He asked softly.

She closed her eyes and exhaled, "I had to be sure. I didn't want to mar his reputation or ruin our friendship….so I went to see him at his house." She opened her eyes and licked her lips nervously. "Marion, Jimmy's wife, was out at art class – as she was every Tuesday. When I got there he didn't want to see me. He was already stressed out; he'd been drinking, he was sweating and he couldn't keep still."

"Sounds like he knew they were on to him."

"He did, and at first he denied any involvement." Sharon looked at her wine glass, "But then he asked me for help."

"You helped the guy?"

Sharon brought her gaze back up to meet Andy's, "He asked me to be his alibi for the previous Tuesday night. And when I refused, he said that he'd just say that he was with me anyway. He'd say that we were having an affair, and that was precisely why I was denying being with him – to protect myself."

"Son-of-a-bitch."

"I couldn't believe it." She smirked, "A good friend that I'd had for so many years, was prepared to bring me down to save his own ass."

"What did you do?"

"Oh, I had no intention of letting that happen."

"So you reported him?"

She nodded, "I led him to believe that he had the upper hand, and as soon as I left – I called it in. They were going to haul him in for questioning the next day."

"What about his allegations?"

She drained the remainder of her glass of wine, "Jackson and I were already separated; Jimmy would have known that if he had spent any time with me over the previous weeks…" Sharon narrowed her eyes, accentuating the fine lines surrounding them. "And I already had my own alibi for that Tuesday night – my mother was staying and had been helping me with the kids after Jackson left."

"So he had nothing over you?"

"Exactly. But he didn't know that…he told Marion that we'd been having an affair when she got home from art class."

"God."

"Marion called me. She was frantic, shouting and screaming down the phone. I could hear Jimmy in the background yelling at her, the kids were crying…Jimmy was pretty drunk when I left him…I was worried so I hung up and placed a call for a squad car to go over and check on them but…"

"What?"

"They were too late." Sharon turned her back on Andy and returned to her seat.

"For what?" Andy leant against the balcony wall and watched as Sharon placed her empty wine glass next to her on the side table.

"There had been a struggle." Sharon picked up her glasses and put them back on her nose, "they'd been fighting and in the process Marion had fallen backwards and caught her head on the bedside cabinet."

"He killed her?" Andy asked, his eyes wide.

"No, but he may as well have." Sharon sniffed, fighting back tears that were threatening to fall, "Marion was in a coma for a few months; when she finally awoke her brain function was minimal. She never recovered – she died in a care home about ten years ago and I never got to tell her the truth."

"Oh my God, Sharon." Andy moved to sit in front of her on the coffee table, "that's terrible. Is that why Jimmy killed himself?"

"Maybe," she wiped at a tear with the back of her hand as it fell down her cheek. "That or the prospect of facing prison."

"But Sharon, I don't understand…how is that case linked to the break in today?"

Sharon sighed heavily and slumped back into the cushions; picking at a loose thread on the cuff of her cow-print shirt. "About 10 years ago, when Marion had passed away – I started to get these…these threatening letters through the mail."

"Like the card that you received this morning?"

She nodded, "they all had the same message – just four words…"

"You'll get yours, bitch," Andy guessed. "What does it mean?"

"The night of Marion's accident, when I'd heard what had happened, I got to Jimmy's house just as he was being escorted across the yard. He yelled 'You'll get your bitch' at me as he was pushed into the back of the squad car. I guess he was sticking to his story about the affair…"

"You say they had kids?"

"They did," Sharon nodded sadly, "Ian and Chloe and they saw everything. Ian was older, about eight when it happened, Chloe was only four." Sharon wiped at another tear, "the last I'd heard was that they'd gone to live with their grandmother in Nevada – but it turns out that she had passed away the following year and they had been placed into the system."

"They grew up in foster care?"

"They were both bounced around from home to home…I found out later, that Chloe had died of a drug overdose in Vegas when she was just fifteen… If I'd have known, Andy…I would have tried to help them – I feel so responsible for what happened…"

"Sharon," Andy didn't think; he just took her hands in his – he was starting to understand why she had been so adamant about keeping Rusty out of the foster system. "You are not responsible for what happened to that family."

Sharon blinked back her tears; she kept her eyes on their joined hands, but made no effort to pull away. When she next spoke, her voice seemed so small; "Ian seemed to think so."

"He wrote the letters?"

"His mother's death…it triggered something in him. First it was the letters, and then he cornered Ricky, my son, outside high school; he told him all these lies about Jimmy and me having an affair…"

Andy ran his thumbs over her knuckles, "did you report him?"

"I did, for whatever reason, they didn't find him fast enough," she rose her gaze to meet Andy's and he absently wondered if the lack of police response had something to do with her job title. "He showed up at my house one night; he said if he couldn't have a family, then neither should I."

"What did you do?"

"I shot him." she said simply - before expanding on her statement, "he threatened my family, so I took him down and arrested him. He's been in Ridgewater Psychiatric ever since."

"He still there?"

"Yes. I checked this morning."

"I don't remember any of this," Andy was at a loss as to why he wouldn't have heard about something so serious happening to a colleague. "When something like that happens to a cop, you normally hear about it…"

"I may be a cop, but I'm an outsider, Andy" she squeezed his fingers. "I know how it works."

"Sharon, you are not an outsider."

She smiled unconvincingly, and slowly pulled her hands from his – rubbing her sweaty palms on her black trousers.

Andy sighed and sat back on the coffee table, regaining professional distance; "You run the card for prints yet?"

"No…I…" she shook her head. "Until tonight I thought it was just some cop with a grudge that had read my file I…"

"Has anyone else touched it?"

"Just Rusty and me…Andy, it might still be completely unrelated. Everything I have told you is in my file and I put an end to a lot of careers …"

Andy frowned. "You may be right…has anyone else got keys for this place?"

"My husband Jack, he has a set," she shrugged, "but he's in Nevada and…Oh my God…" It dawned on Sharon as soon as she'd said it.

"Didn't you say that Ian grew up in Nevada?"

"I'll give Jackson a call." Sharon swiftly got to her feet moved to head back inside.

Andy followed suit, "We'll arrange for your locks to be changed, but you're not staying here tonight."

"Andy I'll be fine," Sharon stopped with her hand on the door handle, turning to face him. "I'm am the police – remember?"

"You've also consumed the best part of a bottle of wine."

"Andy,"

"Sharon look, if you insist on staying here – then I'm staying too. End of story."

She should have been appalled at the suggestion, she should have pulled rank and made him leave – but as Andy stood, arms crossed, looking stubborn as a mule, Sharon realised that for the first time in many years, she had a colleague that cared about her.

She was no longer an outsider; and that point - combined with three quarters of a bottle of wine, weakened her resolve.

TBC

Thanks for reading!


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